


until the sun comes up

by dumpacc



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Comedy, Fantasy, Fluff, Identity Porn, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mutual Pining, Prince Derek Hale, Prince Stiles Stilinski, Pseudo-History, Secret Identity, a tiny little bit of violence but nothing too graphic, werewolves are known
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 16:22:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20085190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dumpacc/pseuds/dumpacc
Summary: According to the poems, the average Wielbarkian is taller than seven feet, as large as two barrels of beer, and their eyes are as cold as ice. If that's the portrait of a random man, Derek can't imagine the portrait of a royal family member. Of his fiancé.Prince Derek is engaged to an ugly barbarian. Or is he?





	until the sun comes up

**Author's Note:**

> i'm a sucker for royalty/historical AU so this is my super self-indulgent "historical" AU mixing fantasy and modern language... anyway. it was supposed to be a little snippet but it ended up 8k+ ahhh.  
i was super pumped up when i first started to write this but i kind of got tired when i got to half of it. i hope you'll still like this!
> 
> for the ones who are worried about the violence: see end notes!

Derek hates this so fucking much. He's a prince and a warrior, not some random goods you can trade when you feel like it. It would be so easy to run away, right now : it's only him and three beta soldiers, and they just passed Wielbark's borders — an unknown country for the four of them. Thing is, he knows it's his duty, for the sake of his kingdom, and he can't afford to disobey his mother. Queen Talia knows that too, and that's why she allowed him to only go with three of his soldiers.

Gerard Argent of the Silver Valleys is the source of all of Derek's problems. Two years ago, he decided he wanted to form an empire by attacking the neighboring countries, and started with Beacon, just south to the Silver Valleys. Gerard hadn't thought that Queen Talia's soldiers would be so resistant — obviously, since most of them are blessed by the wolf spirit —, and up until now, he hasn't managed to take over the whole country. However, the element of surprise and one Kate Argent allowed him to invade half of the country, and the Hales have been pushed back to the shore. Queen Talia managed to send envoys across the Silver Valleys to reach the Wielbark Kingdom before Gerard placed troops there, as she hoped to form an alliance in order to fight back. It was quickly decided the deal would be made official with a marriage between the King's only son, Mieczyslaw Stilinski, and one of the Hales. Laura was the heir to Beacon's throne, and Cora was already engaged to Princess Lydia of the Western Isles, so Derek was the evident choice. 

Wielbark is a kingdom that has been governed by the Stilinski dynasty for centuries, at the northern shore of the continent. The country is relatively small, but it's wealthy and full of gold mines — which is one of the reasons King Gerard plan to invade that country too. However, Wielbark is really closed off to the rest of the world, as it is basically self-sufficient in terms of resources and is almost entirely surrounded by a gigantic forest. Therefore, there's not enough information for Gerard to blindly launch an attack. Which is… good, but also kind of scares Derek. Because the only information anyone has from Wielbark comes from troubadours and messengers, and it's not pretty. There are plenty of songs about how the people from Wielbark are wonderful warriors, but it also comes with how ruthless, ugly and cruel they also are. According to the poems, the average Wielbarkian is taller than seven feet, as large as two barrels of beer, and their eyes are as cold as ice. If that's the portrait of a random man, Derek can't imagine the portrait of a royal family member. Of his fiancé.

Not that Derek really believes everything the troubadours sing, they _always_ exaggerate the smallest things. A few months ago, he killed a boar while hunting, and he heard one of them claim that he killed a three-headed beast. But… there's no smoke without fire, right? Like, it's the only information Derek has, and he has to work with it because he's been literally married off to the fucking _prince_, so you can't blame him for freaking out and imagining the worst. What if Mieczyslaw is ill-mannered, cruel, disfigured and stupid? He doesn't even know how to pronounce his name. There should be a reason King John had to ask for a marriage — maybe nobody else wanted to marry his son.

"Your Highness, the sun just rose. We have to move," he hears Boyd say.

Derek nods and gets to his feet. To get to Wielbark from Beacon, Derek had to cross over the Silver Valleys without being noticed, so obviously he couldn't bring a whole parade of soldiers with him. Moreover, their best warriors had to stay in Beacon to defend the country. In the end, he handpicked Erica, Boyd, and Isaac to go with him, since they were friends since childhood, and that they knew how to fight more than enough.

They left Beacon a month ago, and they finally reached the High Forest of Wielbark. This is the only border of the country that Gerard's soldiers don't watch closely, as they believe it's cursed. "Anyone can enter, but nobody can leave the High Forest of Wielbark", the troubadours kept singing back in Beacon. It's the only way to pass through, however, and Derek hopes for the best.  


It's been almost a week since they've entered the forest, and it seems like there are only trees for miles and miles. Yesterday, it started snowing, even though it's almost summer in Beacon. Derek is thankful for the fur coat the servants prepared for him back at the castle.

Boyd and him join Isaac and Erica, who are already moving. Erica is eating a dry biscuit they bought in the Valleys.

"Do you want a piece?" she asks him, mouth full and holding a half of her biscuit to him.  
  
"Erica!" Isaac chastises her lack of manners in front of the prince, but it's more for the principle. Erica has acted like this since they were kids.

Derek doesn't even blink and gladly takes it. They still have plenty of food and water, but the nights are cold and it's hard to start a fire in the snow. Plus, it would betray their position to the Argents. He hopes they won't die of frostbite.

"I can't believe I'm here, and not fighting alongside my sisters," Derek sighs.  
  
Boys pats him on the back silently, in his own reassuring way. Before his betrothal, he was a General in Beacon's Army, and a good one at that. But they needed this alliance more than anything, and there were plenty of brilliant people who could replace Derek as a tactician, but none as a prince.

The forest is quiet. The pines are covered in white and the sky is clear and blue. The sun rays make the snow glitters, and Derek would appreciate the scene if they weren't absolutely lost in an endless maze of trees. Suddenly, a bush moves, and a grey rabbit hops from the foliage.

"Oh, that's so cute!" Erica coos, bending to have a better look. But the rabbit jumps and runs away — Erica is a wolf, after all. Isaac laughs at her, until another rabbit appears, looks at them, and runs off again.

Uh. That's weird.

Then, suddenly, a horde of animals jumps from the trees, a big owl almost knocking Boyd out in its haste.

"What's happening?!" Isaac cries out, after being almost stomped off by a black boar. 

Derek eyes the direction from where the animals came from warily.

The forest is silent again, except from the sound of hooves in the snow. Between the trees, he can discern the figure of a huge four-legged beast making its way to them.

"Fuck, it's coming towards us," Derek whispers, preparing to wolf out. But before he can do anything, the animal jumps in front of them and knocks him over, and he's on the ground.

He hears Erica, Boyd and Isaac roar, but something seems to stop them from jumping on the animal. Derek sits up and lifts his head. 

A colossal white stag stands before him, its fur glistening in the sun. It's hard to figure the exact height of it when he's lying on the ground, but it must be at least 6'5" tall, and its antlers are majestic. It's… beautiful. Derek can't help but stare, and it seems like his soldiers do the same.

But then, the stag turns around, and that's when Derek sees _it_. On its back, there's a human wearing way too many layers to be comfortable and an awful helmet covering everything except for a little crack for their eyes and a few holes to breathe. From where he is, Derek can at least see two coats of fur and an armor — that's probably what inspired the troubadours concerning the size of Wielbarkians —, and on the helmet are painted several symbols he can't recognize, perhaps war paints. He can't say if it's a man or a woman.

The stranger gets out a long sword from their side. With his enhanced hearing, Derek can hear Isaac asking in a mumble if that person is compensating for something, but he knows all of them are ready to attack the newcomer if they have to.

"Who are you?" the stranger asks, and the voice definitely says male. Its pretty low, but it seems like the man is young. Probably younger than him. "What are you doing in the High Forest? Are you civilians? Are you guys fucking mad?!" 

Derek is taken aback by the sudden flood of words the man just vomited. He's also gesticulating his arms as he talks, almost knocking out the stag twice. The animal doesn't even react, though —it seems like it's used to this sort of behavior. If the man first looked enigmatic and had some kind of mystic aura around him, any of that left the moment he opened his mouth.

Seeing that Derek and his crew aren't answering, the man pauses.

"Wait — are you spies for the Argents?!" he exclaims, brandishing his sword even closer to Derek. "Fuck, I can't believe such a pretty face would willingly work for the Argents!"

"What? No! If you would let me stand up," Derek groans, blushing at the commentary. The man hesitates, and removes his sword. Derek didn't think he would actually do it ; it's a stupid move, and that man obviously doesn't have a lot of experience on the battlefield. You should never trust so easily, especially when they are four against one. It's not what he expected from a Wielbark warrior.

Derek gets to his feet, and dusts himself.

"We're not spies for the Argents," he simply says. The other man seems to grow impatient.

"Then, who are you?"

"Why would we trust you?"

The man stiffens, and Derek doesn't see his expression behind the helmet, but he's pretty sure the man feels affronted.

"W-What? I'm sitting on a stag, isn't it enough?" the man splutters, gesturing at his mount. Derek raises an eyebrow. The more he talks, the less he looks like a threat.

"Is it a Wielbark custom? If you're on a stag, you're trustworthy enough?" Isaac pipes up.

"No! I mean, kind of! But — Aha! You just admitted you weren't from Wielbark, I knew it!" the stranger cheers, pointing an accusing finger at Isaac. Derek glares at his soldier.

"Well, obviously. We're envoys from Beacon," he deadpans. He can't say who he really is when there are still so many threats around them, especially if this man is just a simple soldier. If he dies, the entire alliance would be compromised. "We must meet King Jonathan to talk about the alliance."

The man's shoulders stiffens even more.  
  
"Okay. Proof?"

Derek wolfs out and roars. The man screeches and almost falls off his mount.

* * *

The man introduces himself as Stiles. He still binds their wrists with a rope, just in case, and Derek doesn't have the heart to tell him they could rip it with their teeth any time.

"So, Stiles. You're a soldier? Where's the rest of your squad?"

"Oh, huh… I'm not exactly a soldier, I just keep the Forest… safe" Stiles answers evasively. "I don't think I caught your names, by the way."

Good technique of misdirection, Derek thinks.  
  
"I'm Darren," he replies before his soldiers can say anything. "They are Isaac, Erica and Boyd."

His betas aren't particularly famous, and only Derek's name would be too obvious. Plus, he doesn't want them to mix the names up and makes Stiles think they lied to him about everything.

"No last name?"

"Do you have one?" Derek asks pointedly. Stiles only offered his name, and even then, Derek is pretty sure it's a nickname. Stiles doesn't sound really… Wielbarkian.

"Hah. You've got a point."

Stiles guides them out of the forest in no time. It seems like he knows exactly where is going, which is probably the case, but Derek doesn't know how he did it when all the trees and the rocks and the snow look alike. They would have probably wandered for days if not for Stiles.

"You would have probably died in the High Forest if I hadn't found you," Stiles does say when they reach the edge of the trees. 

"What?"

"The High Forest gets its energy from wandering lost souls. It sort of… eats them," he explains as he hops off the stag. "You would have been killed by what lives in it."

Derek sees Isaac paling from the corner of his eye.

"How come the Forest doesn't eat you, then?" Erica frowns suspiciously.

"Well, huh… I would say it's because the Forest loves me? Or something?" Erica frowns even more. "I mean, I'm Wielbarkian, after all."

There's a grey horse tied to the first tree of the forest. The stag glares at it and bellows, but Stiles calms it down by stroking its flank.

"Oh, Barty, you know you're my favorite. This is just Lola, Scott's horse."

The stag licks, _actually licks_, Stiles' cheek, and turns back to disappear between the trees.

"Ew," Boyd says.

"You named your stag _Barty_," Isaac states incredulously. "And you just let it go."

"No, I didn't name him Barty. His name is actually Bathelemy, but I wasn't the one who named him. He gave me his name. And yes, I let him go, because he's not mine. It's just that he likes me, so he helps me," Stiles shrugs.

"_Oookay_," Erica says. Then she whispers to her prince, "Troubadours didn't say Wielbarkians were so weird."

Derek rolls his eyes. Stiles unties the grey horse from the tree and mounts it.

"So, thank you for your help. Could we go, now?" Derek asks, showing his wrists.

"What? Are you stupid? I can't let random foreigners unsupervised on our grounds, especially if you were sent by Queen Talia to talk to my-, huh, King Jonathan. If you're not a threat, which I'm not totally convinced of by the way, you'll get lost."

Derek wants to… do something. To make him shut up.

"Okay, I guess it makes sense. I mean, it would be easier for us to follow you anyway. Can we at least remove these ropes? It's itchy."

Stiles seems to hesitate.

"Just one of you. You can take turns on who's free, I don't want the three of you running off and scaring townsfolk."

"Okay."

"Wait, I'll remove it for you —"

"No need to," Derek cuts in, as he rips the rope by sheer strength.  
  
Stiles is silent behind his helmet. Derek's pretty sure Stiles' mouth is gaping, and he feels weirdly proud about that.

"You— You could remove it from the start?"

"Yeah. But we wanted to show you we were trustworthy."

Stiles lifts his arms to the sky, as if asking God what he did to deserve this, before placing a hand on his forehead. Or more like where his forehead probably is, since he's actually touching his helmet.

"Okay. All of you remove the ropes for all I care, and walk in front of me. If you run off, don't believe I can't fight you, or find you if I want to."

Derek believes it, but he doesn't say so.

"I'm pretty sure you won't run since you're telling the truth, anyway," Stiles continues. "Well, part of it. I know you were really sent by Queen Talia, but you're not telling me everything."

"And how are you so sure?"

"The trees told me."

Derek can hear the smirk in his voice. If he hadn't just witnessed Stiles ride a giant stag, he would think the guy was totally mad.

"_So weird_," Erica whispers.

* * *

They finally reach a town as the sun sets. It seems like even Wielbarkians don't want to live too close to the High Forest. Derek shivers — the night is cold, but Stiles doesn't seem to mind, what's with his triple coat and his armor and helmet. 

"Hey, do you guys have some money?" Stiles asks as they reach the first house of the town.

"Maybe. Why?"

"We're gonna rent three rooms in an inn, of course, unless you want to sleep outside. And tomorrow, each one of you will get a horse. It will be faster this way."

Derek wants to talk back : nobody except his parents and Laura ever ordered him around, and it doesn't suit well with him that Stiles is in charge. But since he's passing as a simple envoy, he swallows any sarcastic answer he would have usually come back with.

The streets are quite empty, except for a few workers getting home. Derek noticed the nights are longer in Wielbark.  
  
The sky is already dark as Stiles leads them to a small inn — a sign reads "Anna's". The walls are made of woods, and when they pass the door, a hot flash hits Derek, and the yellow light blinds him, contrasting with the darkness outside.

The inn is quite full. There are a lot of men, but also women, at the tables, drinking what seems like beers and chatting and laughing joyfully. Nobody seems to notice their entrance, except for the innkeeper, a chubby brunette who rushes them to close the door, probably Anna.

She's large and tall — taller than Derek even though she's a woman, and Derek thinks she quite fits the troubadours' songs. On the contrary, now that he's not on a horse anymore, Derek notices Stiles is about his height _with_ the helmet. The layers make him seem broader, though.

"Oh my, a patroller!" the innkeeper exclaims. "Welcome, welcome! Come and sit at a table! Do you need a room? A drink? First is on the house to thank you for keeping us safe!"

"We'll take three rooms," Stiles says cheerfully. "I also have a horse."

"It's going to be taken care of," the innkeeper says before screaming a name and speaking in what is probably a Wielbarkian dialect.

"You want to eat? Drink?" Stiles asks, turning to the wolves. Isaac's stomach growls and Erica has been eyeing one of the men's beer for more than five minutes, so Derek nods. "Let's get a table, then."

They sit at a secluded table next to the wall, and order drinks and dishes. When everything arrives, though, Stiles seems to realize something.

"Oh."

He still hasn't removed any of his fur nor his helmet even though Derek is sweating like crazy in only one coat. 

His betas are already digging into their food, not really minding Stiles. Only Derek watches Stiles staring at the food, hesitantly playing with his fork.

"You okay?" Derek asks. Stiles glances at him, and it's the first time Derek can get a good look at his eyes. Through the crack, he sees big round honey-colored eyes. They are the furthest thing from the cold eyes troubadours sang about, and Derek feels weirdly entranced.

"Yeah, yeah," Stiles answers, his voice muffled by the helmet. "I'm just… As a patroller, I'm not supposed to remove my helmet in front of civilians. We have to remain anonymous."

There's a bleep in his heartbeat as he says so, and Derek knows he's lying, but he doesn't understand why. He's 99% sure Stiles is on their side.

"If you don't want us to see your face, you can just lift your helmet and eat like this. Not very comfy, but if you really can't…"

Stiles watches at Derek for a few seconds, before shyly lifting his helmet until his mouth his visible. Stiles' lips are pink and wet, and he has a cupid bow. There's a mole on his cheek. Derek knows he's staring, but he can't stop until Stiles puts a piece of meat in his mouth.

After a few drinks, though, Stiles isn't so shy anymore. He's talking and laughing loudly with Erica, who seems to like his weirdness after all.

"What is King Jonathan like?" Isaac asks after Stiles and Erica are done mocking the latest man fashion trend of growing a moustache. "Is he like… in the songs?"

Stiles helmet is back on his head, covering his whole head, but Derek hears the confusion in his voice.

"The songs?"

"Back in Beacon, there are songs about how Wielbarkians are gigantic and their eyes are as cold as ice," Isaac explains.   
  
Stiles is silent for a moment, and Derek wants to slap his forehead. Leave it to Isaac to offend their only guide in Wielbark. But then, Stiles starts to laugh.

"Wielbarkians are not _that_ huge. Well, maybe in comparison to other countries, but the tallest ones aren't the norm. Look at me, I'm not even taller than Darren with my helmet on." Derek can feel Stiles' eyes roaming his body. "And I'm sure not as… broad. Even if the coats might make it look otherwise."

Derek can feel his ears redden.

"Maybe it's just the coat for me too."

"Oh, buddy. It's obvious you only have one coat. And I know one coat doesn't make shoulders look like… this," Stiles slurs almost seductively. Erica barely keeps herself from spilling the beer in her mouth and Boyd hides a smirk behind his hand.

"I'm not your buddy," Derek grunts, but Stiles ignores him.

"And to answer your question, Isaac, King Jonathan is not particularly huge. About my height… probably. Definitely broader. He does have eyes as cold as ice, though," Stiles snickers, even though Derek doesn't understand what's so funny about this. "But the most important thing is, he's a great king. He's not perfect, of course, but he listens to his people. Well, I don't agree with everything he does, but… he fits the role well."

"What about the Queen?" Erica asks.

He swears Stiles stiffens in his armor, but he can't say for sure.

"Oh, she died a few years ago. And the King didn't find a new wife."

It seems like it's the last topic Stiles wants to talk about, but Erica isn't known for her tact or her ability to read people. Especially if Erica is drunk and the other person hides his face with a helmet.

"We don't hear anything about that in Beacon, Wielbark is such a closed off country! How was she like? How did she die?"

Stiles rubs the back of his neck.

"She died of illness. She… She wasn't exactly from Wielbark. She was the heiress of the High Forest. Part human, part… something else. Magic."

"I thought the High Forest belonged to Wielbark?"

"It does belong to the Stilinskis, ever since King Jonathan and Queen Claudia got married. But before that, the Forest just happened to be on our territory. There are creatures living in the woods, and you're lucky you haven't crossed path with them."

Isaac shivers.

"She was a great Queen. The best, in my opinion," Stiles shuffles awkwardly.

"What about the prince?" Boyd asks, because he's the best friend ever, and Derek is actually interested. He tries not to show it, but he definitely perks up.

"Well, huh…" Stiles shuffles awkwardly.

As if on cue, Anna comes to clear the table and asks if they want new drinks.  


"Are you gossiping about the royal family?" she asks and she answers with a raucous laugh when they all nod. "They do a great job, but they are so mysterious, these ones. Especially Prince Mieczyslaw. Since, you know, nobody ever see him outside the castle, and even inside, he stays secluded in his apartments."

Derek hears Stiles gulping, but he doesn't pay attention. All the wolves' eyes are on Anna.

"Why doesn't he go out?"

"Well, we don't really know. Some think it's because he's sick and his father doesn't want him to leave the castle. Some say it's because he's so ugly he doesn't want anybody to see his face."

Stiles actually has a fit of coughs at that.

"What?! I never heard that last one!"

"A former servant living in the castle said she saw his face, once, and it was so unpleasant that she fainted."

"Well, that's because she spread baseless lies like that that she doesn't work in the castle anymore," Stiles counters petulantly.

"Say what you want, patroller, but she left on her own. Something about not wanting to see that face again," Anna winks before leaving.

"_What_?! This never happened!" A weirdly offended Stiles turns to face them. "Don't worry. I'm sure the prince is the most handsome lad of the kingdom. People are just jealous," he says, but he doesn't sound convinced by his words himself.

Derek feels kind of sick. He isn't a… _vain_ person per se, but he would at least appreciate if he didn't faint every time he sees his future husband. Now he can only hope his fiancé has a great personality.

Boyd discreetly pats him on the back. Stiles is grumbling.

"I swear to God — Oh shit. I gotta go to the bathroom," he says before leaving for the back of the inn in a haste. He probably had too many beers.

Several moments later, the door opens and three men wearing the same kind of attire as Stiles enter the inn. Probably other patrollers, or maybe soldiers, Derek isn't sure if they all have the same uniform — they don't have the war paints on their helmet, and their furs seem much more expensive than Stiles'. They scan the room with their eyes. In an opposite fashion as when Derek and his betas entered, every body in the tavern quiets down at the sight of the newcomers. Until Anna screams at them to close the door.

"What are you looking for, officers? If you don't want to buy anything, you're not welcome here."

"Sorry for the disturbance, Ma'am. We're looking for someone. According to some of our informants, he might be here," the man in a middle explains, not unkindly.

"And who, might I ask?"

"A little shit," the soldier on the right mumbles.

"Jackson," the one on the left hisses, hitting probably-Jackson on the side.

"Let's say it's… a fugitive, Ma'am," Middle-One says.

"Are you saying I'm harboring vermin in my tavern? Are you accusing my clients of being criminals?"

Oh, Anna is starting to get mad, and the people in the inn are muttering between them. Stiles is right, Anna isn't the norm — the soldiers in front of her are smaller than her. And apparently getting more and more scared the redder she gets.

"No, of course not," Middle-One says. "The person we're trying to catch is far from being a criminal. I don't see him here anyway. We're sorry for disturbing your business."

They leave as fast as they came, and it's like a spell is broken : everyone turns back to mind their own business. With his enhanced hearing, he hears Jackson outside say : "I wish he was a criminal and we could put him in a cell so he fucking stops running off on his own. We're royal guards, not dogs."

Royal guards? What would royal guards do so far from the capital?

He doesn't have the chance to question it further as one of the employees tap on his shoulder.

"Sorry for disturbing you, but the patroller traveling with you asked me to tell you he was going to head up to his roomfirst."

Derek nods and carries on the night with his betas, completely forgetting about the incident after Isaac proceeds to spill his beer on the floor and they have to clean up.

* * *

The day after, Stiles is already waiting for them at the stables. They only manage to buy three horses from a farmer outside of town, so Boyd and Erica have to ride together (not that they really seem to care).

Stiles, despite his cheerful and talkative personality, remains a mystery. They travel in the same fashion for a few days, sleeping in inns or in the open when they have to, and not once Derek nor his betas see him removing his helmet totally. Derek tries not to pry, but he's curious nonetheless. Against his better judgement, he finds Stiles… interesting. He's bright and sarcastic and weirdly charming, wide movements and running mouth and it's bad because Derek is_ engaged_. He tries to fight his growing attraction by telling himself he doesn't even know what Stiles looks like, but Stiles could be as pretty as he could be ugly, so it doesn't work very well.

Seven days after Stiles found them, Stiles announces they are at a two-days ride from the Capital, if everything goes to plan, and Isaac almost cries out of relief.

They are riding through the woods — not as dense as the High Forest, and it's not actually snowy this time, but it's still full of vegetation. It's pretty calm, but they have been traveling rather peacefully ever since they arrived in Wielbark. That's why the Wolves' defenses are lowered, and that's why none of them notice the arrow before it flies through Boyd's shoulder.

Boyd lets out a terrifying roar as he falls off his horse, and Derek's senses go immediately haywire. His beta, pack mate, his best friend has been injured. Without even thinking twice, he jumps off his horse to get to Boyd, noticing Erica has already beaten him to it, and Isaac is doing the same. The arrow has easily transpierced the meat of Boyd's shoulder, but fortunately didn't manage to crack the bone, and there's no trace of wolfsbane — Boyd will quickly heal. Still, he's bathing in blood and obviously hurting like hell. Erica is already absorbing his pain, and Derek looks around him frantically.

Was it the Argents? Did they find them? Did they follow them here? Did they just put the Wielbark kingdom in danger in the same move?  
  
Derek's eyes land on Stiles. He can only sees his back, and the younger man didn't move from his horse even when Boyd was hurt. What if… What if Stiles had led them into a trap? Was he working to ambush them since the beginning? Is he working for the Argents? Maybe the king of Wielbark is actually siding with the Argents, or wants Derek dead?

But then, Stiles turns to him, and Derek sees it. Stiles has removed his gloves and rolled up the big sleeves of his uniform, showing an array of tattoos adorning his arms. At the same time, a dozen of armed men appear from the trees. They all look burly and grotesque, but they all seem dangerous — and most of all, there is _a lot_ of them. And even if Derek's a werewolf prince with a pack, he's not sure if he can take them all with one beta down and another busy healing him.

He glances at Stiles. Assuming he's not with them, there's a chance on winning based on Stiles' ability to fight.  
  
What seems like the leader of the men starts to walk toward them. He's tall and big, as the troubadours' songs say, and his eyes gleam meanly. When he smiles at them, there are some teeth missing.

"My, my. A bunch of people traveling with a soldier. Either you're bandits like us, or you're actually important people. I stand for the second, as the handle of your sword is way prettier than mine," he laughs raucously, eyeing at Derek's sheath.

Derek growls, ready to attack at the first wrong move.

"Oh. So they were just random bandits," he hears Stiles whispers, probably to no one, but Derek has werewolf hearing.

Stiles touches one of his tattoos with two fingers, whispers something in a language Derek doesn't understand, and then points the two fingers towards the man.

And then, something unbelievable happens. The branch of a tree catches the leader's arm and he gets launched in the air, and hits a few of his men behind him before landing on a rock. It must hurt like hell, but the leader is already trying to get up, his head bloody. However, when he does, the same branch is still pointing at him, as if daring him to take a step further, like it's _alive_. Even from here, Derek can see it — the tip of the branch is as sharp as a sword, and he has no doubt it can goes through the man's body the same way an arrow went through Boyd's shoulder.

The leader snickers. 

"You think a fucking tree's gonna stop me?" he says as he tries to draw up the saber behind his back, but the tree is faster and stab the man in the arm before he can reach for it, and then deep in the leg. The leader cries from the pain and falls on his knees, unable to move.

"Stop! I told you not to kill him!" Stiles shouts at the tree when it seems like the branch is ready for another round, probably to the head, and the tree actually stops moving.

"What the —," Derek starts, but then the other bandits are launching toward them in rage.

Stiles is already touching another one of his tattoos, this time with his thumb, and half of the thugs falls on the ground. Their feet are entrapped in what seems like small but thick roots, and now that they are on the ground, their wrist are too. The more they struggle, the more it seems like the roots tighten around them.

Derek would have thought he was hallucinating if his mother had never told him about magic users. There was a lot of sorts and Derek had never bothered to learn about all of them, but he knew the gist of it. Alan Deaton, for example, was a magic user — he was the Hales' emissary, but also a Druid: he could brew potions and healed with magic. However, he had never met anyone who could control their environment like this. 

One of the remaining free one screams. "Fuck! It's a witch! There's no way we can win!" And just like that, they scatter around, one of them grabbing their leader before leaving the ones entrapped in the roots.  
  
Derek checks on Boyd — it seems like Isaac and Erica managed to get the arrow out and stop the bleeding, and he's now healing normally. He hears Stiles mumbles.

"Fuck, now I have to make an anonymous tip to the guards about a band of thieves in Lyakpal. And I'm not a witch, fuckers." 

Derek's eyebrows shot up.

"What are you, then?"

"I told you," he replies, and Derek can hear his smirk. "The forest likes me."

Derek remembers that first day, when Stiles had said _'If you run off, don't believe I can't fight you, or find you if I want to_'. He didn't take seriously back then, but now he's pretty sure Stiles wasn't overestimating his abilities saying that.

For some reason, it makes him hotter. Derek is in deep shit.

* * *

They finally reach Valnov, the capital, by the end of the next day. Since it's so late, they obviously can't afford to set an audience with King Jonathan.  


In contrast with the first town, Valnov is lively, even at night. The sun has set down, but there are a lot of people outside, children running in the streets. The pavements are illuminated by a multitude of lanterns, there are still a lot of boutiques and stalls open, and musicians fill up the air with traditional Wielbarkian melodies.  


"Valnov is a lively city," Stiles explains. "But tonight even more, because it's the Moon Festival. It's a yearly festival that takes place twelve days after Summer has begun, to thank the Moon for her protection against the darkness."

Indeed, Derek can see little kids running and laughing around with moon-shaped lanterns, and he can hear a priest chanting in a foreign language through the crowd. 

"I'm so glad we can attend to the one in Valnov, I haven't been able to do so since I was seven or so," Stiles continues. "It's the best one in the country! Or… maybe you want to relax instead? We'll find an inn first…"

Derek doesn't see his face, but he knows Stiles probably looks hopeful. On the other hand, Boyd and Erica seem exhausted from the events from the day before.

"We'll find an inn first," Derek says, and he hates how Stiles' shoulders slump. "For Erica and Boyd. Then Isaac and I would be glad to see the festival with you."

Stiles' eyes glows in the slit of his helmet. He nods, and makes his way through the crowd with Lola. They finally get to a little inn in a quiet street, far from the festivities so Derek's betas can relax. Stiles is waiting outside as Erica and Boyd go to their room, and Derek is nudging at Isaac so they can start to get going.

"No, I'm fine staying here," Isaac says. "You go have fun."

"What?"

"I mean, I saw how you look at him. It's your last night before meeting your betrothed, my prince. You should make the most of this night."

"I don't see what you're talking about," Derek blushes.

But Isaac only chuckles. He nods, "My prince," before leaving the room.

Derek sighs and goes outside, where Stiles is waiting for him. When he sees Derek through the door, he jumps a little, as if he didn't expect to see him. Maybe he thought Derek had finally decided to ditch him. Derek's heart swells. This growing attraction is harder and harder to fight, and he still hasn't even seen his face.

"Let's get going," Derek says.  
  
Stiles nods, practically vibrating with excitement. 

They head for the festival, the sound of violins and accordions easily leading them to the heart of the festivities. They buy a few things to eat in the booths, and as they march through the crowd, a man running a beer stall calls out to them.

"Gentlemen! Do you want a taste of the best beer of Valnov?"

"Oh, no, we…"

"You can take a sip for free! You can decide if you want to buy one afterwards!"

"Come on Darren, let's just taste it! What are we here for, otherwise?" Stiles adds enthusiastically.

Derek only agrees begrudgingly, and takes the pint the stall owner is handing him. It's actually good, and Derek says so.  
  
"Told you so! Valnov's beers are the best!" Stiles squeals, before shifting his helmet a little so he can also taste it. "I need a whole pint of this," he tells the man.

They pay and the owner gives them their two beers. 

"Oh, you're not a royal guard are you? What is a patroller doing so far from the borders?" he says, suddenly looking suspiciously at Stiles, then Derek.

"I've been repatriated!" Stiles lies smoothly. "I'm being promoted to the Royal Guard soon! Cheers!" He then proceeds to swallow the whole drink in one go, before tugging at Derek. "Let's go, Darren!'

Derek has only drunk half of his glass, but he shrugs and follows Stiles in the midst of people. They are getting out of the crowd, and Stiles sighs.

"People are going to ask questions too many if they see me," he says dejectedly, gesturing at his helmet and his armor. "I wish I could just have fun with everyone. You know, dance, drink, buy a thing or two. It's been so long since I've last taken part of this sort of things."

"Because you had to patrol the borders?"

Stiles doesn't say anything at first. "Yeah — Yes. You could say it like that."

They have escaped to a quiet alley, and Stiles is looking longingly at the mass of people, all laughing and dancing to the rhythmic beat of the musicians.

The music gradually slows down, and Derek can see Stiles' whiskey eyes gleaming with the light of the myriad of lanterns through the helmet slits.

And Derek might be crazy, he _is_ crazy, because he's falling so fast and so deep with a man he doesn't know, and he offers his hand to Stiles.

"Well, will you do me the honor to dance with me?"

Stiles stares at Derek for a beat, his breath hitching, before softly taking Derek's hand in his.

"Gladly.

The melody of the violins is getting slower, almost languorous, and Derek presses Stiles against his chest. They are about the same height, so Stiles just puts his head on Derek's shoulder, careful of not hurting Derek with his helmet, and lets his feet get swayed by the other man's lead.

The song is soft and Derek wants to cry. Stiles is warm against him, his hot breath sending shivers down his spine, and he knows he'll never get to know him any more than he does now, because he has to get married with a total stranger. This is stupid, he doesn't know Stiles either — but Derek only needed a few days to know how bright, how smart, how ridiculously brave and strong he is. And he'll never get to have this.

The song ends, and they just stay against each other for a while, even when the music starts again. When they step back, their hands are still intertwined, but Derek quickly withdraws his.

"I - I can't," he stutters, but he realizes Stiles just said these words at the same time.

"Oh?" Derek says in a small voice, and Stiles looks as unsure as he is.

"I… I have a fiancé," Stiles explains. "I mean. I have to marry them."

"Oh. Me too."

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

They stay silent for an awkward minute before Derek clears his throat.

"Let's get back to the inn."

"Yeah."

The walk to the inn is eerily quiet, but Derek's fingers brush against Stiles' and Stiles doesn't remove his hand. However, when Derek heads for the entrance, Stiles starts to turn left, towards the stables.

"Where are you going?" Derek asks, following him to where Lola is resting.

"I have to get home," Stiles only offers.

"Home? But… what about the audience with King Jonathan?"

"Don't worry. I swear when you get to the castle tomorrow, you'll have an audience with him. I promise."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Trust me."

"But —"

However, Stiles pins Derek against the opposite wall, puts a hand against both of Derek's eyes, and Derek doesn't fight it. He can hear Stiles removing his helmet entirely before wetly pressing his lips against Derek’s. The kiss is as short as it is sweet, and Stiles kisses one last time before putting his helmet back on and stepping back.

"Farewell, Darren," he solemnly says as he climbs on Lola.

Stiles leaves into the night, and he takes Derek's heart with him. 

* * *

True to Stiles' words, when Derek and his pack gets to the castle the morning after, they meet no resistance to get an audience with the King. At breakfast, Isaac asked Derek how the night went, but Derek only grunted in response.

As they wait outside the throne room, Derek hears a valet announcing: "Prince Derek Hale of the Beacon Kingdom."

Derek strides in the room, his betas following behind him. The room is richly decorated, a deep crimson adorning the ground and the walls. King Jonathan's guards are quiet, looking at him with piercing eyes. Against the furthest wall from the door, the sovereign is sitting on a colossal throne surrounded by red velvet curtains.

Contrary to what he had imagined, King Jonathan looks… pretty regular. He's probably a little bit younger than Derek's own mother, but his face looks tired, wrinkled in weariness. He doesn't seem as broad nor as tall as the songs said, but his eyes are an icy blue.

When he gets to the center of the room, Derek kneels, and he can hear his beta mimic him. 

"Prince Derek?" the King wonders. "I wasn't expecting you until a few weeks. Do you have anything to prove your identity?"

He can hear Erica is starting to snarl to defend her prince's honor, but Derek stops her before she can offend the nobility of Wielbark.

"I do," he says, searching through his coat for the letter his mother wrote to the King. He gives it to a servant who brings it to Jonathan. "We were afraid the Argents would find us, so we sneaked in through the High Forest."

King Jonathan quickly reads through the letter, before folding it and putting it on his lap.

"The High Forest, you say? How come you were able to cross through it?" he asks, looking impressed.

"A soldier helped us. A patroller, I believe."

"A patroller?" Jonathan repeats, his eyes narrowing. Then, he suddenly gets red in the face. "Bring Prince Mieczyslaw here immediately, whatever he's doing right now," he orders another servant, who leaves in a hurry.

A few moments pass in silence, but Derek can see the King is looking angry, his hands balled up in two fists. Derek's heart is beating wildly — he's finally going to meet the man he's going to spend his life with.  
  
Outside the room, he can hear loud steps, and then the doors open. As he's facing the King, Derek can't see Prince Mieczyslaw's face as he enters, however he can hear his voice when the newcomer speaks.

"Dad! I know you're angry with me, but you can't keep adding grounding rules forever!"

And Derek fucking recognizes this voice. He whips his head to the source, and gets on his feet.

"Stiles?"

"Darren?"

Stiles is staring at him with wide whiskey eyes. His skin is pale, dotted with moles, his eyelashes are long and his lips are a pretty pink. He has an upturned nose, his brown hair is wild on his head, and he's wearing a fitting vest and a belt highlighting broad shoulders and a narrow waist. Scratch every troubadour singing about how Wielbarkians were grotesque — Stiles is the prettiest person Derek has ever seen in his life.

"Mieczyslaw Stilinski, would you care to explain what you were doing in details during the past week? From what I understood, it seems like Prince Derek had a pretty good guide to travel through our lands."

"Mieczyslaw?" Derek repeats.

"Prince Derek?" Stiles repeats.

They just stare at each other for a long time — Stiles' mouth is gaping (it's very distracting), and Derek is sure he doesn't look better. Then, a wide smile splits Stiles' face and he launches towards Derek, taking him in his arms.  
  
"Oh my god, _you're_ Prince Derek?!"

"Son, would you please explain before I get an aneurysm?"

Stiles clears his throat withdraws a little from Derek's personal space, much to Derek's sorrow.

"Okay, so. About two weeks ago, I left the castle — yeah I know I'm not allowed to leave the castle because of what happened to Mom, I _know_, but I sensed that someone crossed my wards and entered the High Forest and it had never happened before! I _had_ to investigate. So I stole a uniform from the guards room and took Scott's horse since she's the fastest ("so that was where Lola was," Derek hears one of the guard mumbles) and I rode to the High Forest. That's where I found them. Prince Derek never told me he _was _actually Prince Derek, he just said they were envoys from Beacon, Dad! I just, kind of fell for him along the way? But I swear, nothing happened."

Derek coughs, because they _did_ kiss, but maybe it wasn't worth mentioning now.

"I'm sorry for lying, Sti- Prince Mieczyslaw, I was just taking precautions."

"You know what? I don't even care. Fuck. I want to marry you so bad. I was almost planning to escape so I could elope with you. I mean, if you had wanted me."

Derek raises an eyebrow, and chuckles.

"Gladly," he whispers, echoing Stiles' words from the night before, and the younger man lets out a pleased laugh. Derek takes Stiles' chin between his fingers, and he's almost leaning to kiss him when he hears King Jonathan coughs obnoxiously.

He jumps and takes a rigid step back, face glowing red as Boyd snickers.

"So, I think we were discussing about the alliance?" King Jonathan offers.

* * *

  
  
With the help of Wielbark, the war against the Argents doesn't last more than a few months, as they are assailed by every side.  
  
And if decades later, the troubadours praise the love between King Mieczyslaw and King Derek, these are probably the only songs that aren't exaggerated.

**Author's Note:**

> violence: boyd gets shot by an arrow but heals and it's very briefly described.
> 
> short story: at first i was planning to do a whole super epic thing and instead of traveling with stiles, the fic would have started with derek meeting helmet!stiles in the stilinski castle and stiles would hace been cursed (nogitsune stuff) and would only be able to remove his helmet at night to show his pretty face... in an eros and psyche fashion if you see what i mean? but then i got lazy. maybe one day i'll write something like this if you guys are up to this.
> 
> title is from: afire love by ed sheeran
> 
> kudos and comments are love <3  
thank you for reading!
> 
> also this is my [tumblr](https://starsterek.tumblr.com/) and my [twitter](https://twitter.com/starstereks) let's be friends


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